Dr Poke
by movingmidnight
Summary: Pierce Poke, a people doctor in the world of pokemon, finds himself in a peculiar situation over a Charmander and its owner.


"_This just in…there has been a major cave-in at the excavation site deep within Cerulean Cave. As many of you know for the past two weeks a rather large crew of around 100 people have been working at the cite when the catastrophe occurred an hour or so ago. As we can see, behind me emergency personnel are pulling both people and Pokémon out of the wreck-" _

The Chief of Medicine a man remarkably grave in everyday life was now even more so. The thick busy mustache waggled back and forth on his upper lip as he spoke to his staff. All unnecessary surgeries were to be canceled. All the ORs were to be prepared to take on the victims that were on their way To Cerulean City General Hospital. There was something encouraging being said as the all-hands-on deck protocol was being put into effect.

A relatively young doctor by the name of Poke watched in slow motion, until the ambulances arrived. One collapsed lung, three amputations, two crushed legs, a few fractured skulls, many broken ribs and half of a day later Dr. Poke began to feel the numbness of the adrenaline wearing off.

They called it ER Burnout, and he was starting to feel it. He leaned against the wall behind him, happy to have found a decent amount of quiet on another floor of the hospital. All his patients were in stable condition now, or were being attended by other medical staff, he could rest for a little awhile…maybe try and find an empty bed in the on-call room…

His eyes began to flutter close at the thought of sleeping. His legs were going weak too, and he slowly slid down the wall.

"Hello…Hello?"

Groggily he looked up, down the hall stood a woman looking wildly around her. He had to squint, because in his sleepy vision she seemed faint in appearance, as if she were a water painting that had been smeared before drying.

"Are you looking for a doctor?" He asked her. She spotted him, and her appearance suddenly solidified.

"Can you help me?" She asked.

The woman glided towards him from down the hallway. She was skinny, the first thing he noticed. The second being that she, whoever she was had no visible injuries. Third, she had something clutched to her chest, something child-sized and orange. A Charmander, he soon realized.

Dr. Poke shook off the weariness and walked up to her. His physical examination was almost immediate.

"Ma'am are you alright? Were you apart of the cave-in?" He questioned putting his index and middle finger to her jugular, trying to get her pulse. Her skin was pretty clammy, but then again, she did just suffer a traumatic event.

She nodded and tried to wave him off, "But I'm alright…it's Charmander who needs your help doctor."

He sighed and continued looking for her pulse anyway, "So do you ma'am, you were exposed to all sorts of things, I really must insist we get you checked-in."

"No! Charmander needs your help, not me!" She said, pushing his hand away again, "Will you treat it or not?"

"Look, I can't treat it, I'm a…people doctor, I don't know the first thing about Pokémon physiology…I can get a medical transport for it though, you just have to be-"

The woman glared at him. It didn't faze, him it wasn't the first time that a patient had glared at him, bitten, or hit him. But this one… she was certainly different. Her eyes mirrored the rare green hue found in storm clouds over the sea.

"No you don't understand," She glared at him. "This Pokémon and I have been together since l was ten years old. We have been through everything together."

She turned from him, peering at the poor, possibly dying Pokémon in her arms. She smoothed a hand over the leather like skin of its head. The creature stirred for a moment, looking at its trainer then its eyes slid closed. The body began to shudder again.

"I-I can't rest until it gets treatment. Please? I promise I'm not going to sue you or anything, but if I try to get him to a Pokémon Center he'll…he'll…"

He certainly didn't want to deal with a crying woman. He ushered her to come with him. The hospital's free clinic was on this floor, he could treat the creature in there without notice. She hurried after him and once they were inside, he shut the door.

"Put it-him on the table." He said brusquely, looking for the materials he would need.

He looked for gauze, ointments…anything really; he wasn't quite sure what he was expected to do. He came back to the creature and stared at it thoughtfully. He was only trained in human care, what was one supposed to do with Pokémon? Taking its temperature would probably be a mistake, this thing could spit fire at will, overheating wasn't an issue.

Deciding to worry about the wounds he could see, he decided to give it some oxygen first; it was exposed to the same gasses as the rest of the victims. Though, when he approached the Charmander with the mouthpiece required it snapped at him. Its breathing was labored under the strain of trying to look intimidating. It was weak, it didn't know him, and it was scared of wherever its trainer had taken it. He sighed and out the mouth piece to his mouth breathed in, held it out again and breathed out. Dr. Poke repeated the process twice.

"What are you doing?" The woman asked worriedly behind him.

"Showing him that it's safe to breathe the oxygen in," He replied, finally holding out the mask to the creature.

There was no fighting this time, the Pokémon allowed him to slip it over its leathery head and then he proceeded to try and listen to its heart and lungs with a stethoscope. It flinched every time the cold instrument touched, but the creature now trusted him, especially with its trainer standing by, muttering sweet assurances of safety and health.

"Thank you Doctor." The woman smiled as Dr. Poke began cleaning the wounds, "My name is Olivia, Olivia Mort. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier…but it was kinda urgent."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that, "Really? I didn't get that vibe."

"Would you have done this if I hadn't acted the way I did?"

"Probably not, Miss Mort," He replied honestly. He left Charmander for a moment, prepping the liquid stitches it would need for a cut on its leg.

"Call me Olivia." She said, "I've got no need for formality."

"Fine, Olivia, what were you doing at the Cave-In? Were you a worker?"

Olivia nodded, "Of sorts, I was the Head Archeologist, but then Charmander got hurt in the cave-in and I brought him here."

"Most people have more than one Pokémon…"

"So do I."

He paused in his work to peer at her, "And the rest of them weren't injured? Or did they…"

"The rest of my Pokémon are Ghost-Type; technically speaking they can't die, because they are already dead."

They continued to speak as he worked on the last of Charmander's wounds. Charmander was her very first Pokémon, given to her by Professor Oak. Together she and Charmander would explore the deep and dark caverns, often containing Ghost Pokémon and other types, but Ghosts were her favorite. As she grew up, she grew to also love everything with history and the earth. She'd use the Ghost-types to scope out the earth and the safety of a dig, then, as the digging commenced, Charmander lit their way.

Dr. Poke found her to be quite interesting. She seemed alive with all the enthusiasm for her work. And she spoke with much love and compassion when she spoke of her Pokémon was strange for a man of no such companionship. He told her so, but she merely giggled and told him that she was sure that Charmander at least liked him. That did little to comfort him in anyway.

Soon his work was done as he healed and sealed the last wound. Charmander's heart and lungs sounded healthy despite the dust and gasses it probably endured.

"I'm not sure how fast it'll recover but, it's no longer in any danger." He said at last, as he stepped back and began putting away his medical tools.

Olivia smiled, "Thank you…I'm sorry I didn't get your name."

He smiled back, "Dr. Poke is my professional name. But…call me Pierce."

"Pierce Poke…okay."

He nodded then looked for something to wrap the creature in, to keep it warm. At last he simply decided to use his lab coat; he was due for a new one anyway. Awkwardly he tried to wrap the Pokémon, but failed when the flame on its tail almost set fire to the fabric. Olivia laughed airily at him then came to wrap her Charmander, starting at the tail, leaving a hole for the fire to burn.

Her work done, Pierce picked up Charmander and let the creature rest its head against his shoulder. Olivia opened the door for him, and let him out with her Pokémon.

Somehow they had agreed to be silent on their journey down the hallway; even her footsteps became lighter and lighter in comparison to his. He supposed that was because she had given the burden of carrying Charmander to him this time. By the time they reached the elevators though, Pierce was instructing her on what to do next.

"Take him to a Pokémon Center, if a Nurse Joy can't help I've heard of a great Pokémon Physician in Pewter by the name of Bro-"

Pierce turned around, the wrapped and bandaged Charmander in his arms. She was gone. He looked around again, and again. Not a soul in sight, not even Nurse Tilda who worked this wing was at her station.

"Olivia?"

The T.V. in the lobby area suddenly blared. Pierce jumped, not noticing it until just then. Careful not to jostle the Charmander, he walked into the lobby, thinking Olivia may have somehow taken a detour.

She wasn't there either, but the T.V. seemed to have a life of its own, the newscaster on the screen, seemed to be screaming out her next report. Pierce turned his attention to it.

"_Another report from the scene at Cerulean Cave: Olivia Mort, the head archeologist of the project has just been pronounced dead at the scene. Ms. Mort was found only a few short minutes ago. Rescue teams confirm that her very own Ghost Pokémon, for whatever reason, were concealing the body until-"_

"Char…?"

Pierce looked at the creature in his arms, it mewed pitifully at him, mourning, scared, and lost.

"C'mon, looks like you're coming home with me."

With that he walked straight out of the hospital. The T.V. still crying in the background.

Author's Note:

I wrote this story for a friend, whose is named Olivia, and has green eyes. But seriously who knew before they got to the end that she was dead? Hmmm? :)


End file.
